I don't normally write continuation of flash stories as I prefer the tales to be 'self-contained', but this is a companion piece to last week's Third in the Polls.
* * *
Footsteps echoed along
the wood-panelled corridor. Running the length of the east wing, the corridor's
walls groaned beneath the weight of valuable paintings and tapestries. Raymond
paid them no attention as he strode past. He'd spent years studying their
symbolism and metaphors as a younger man - they'd long since ceased to hold any
fascination for him.
"Sir? Sir, where
are we going?"
The young man at
Raymond's side stared at the canvases as he passed, struggling to appreciate
them in a single glance. He made a mental note to come back and study them when
Raymond finally allowed him to leave.
"We're going to
get some help for our polling problem," replied Raymond.
Dai stifled a groan.
Mariette warned him that Raymond wouldn't take the news well. He'd never liked
losing, but dropping to third in the polls was even more of an insult. Still,
Dai hadn't anticipated being dragged into Raymond's personal crusade.
"How?"
"We're going to
see the Spin Doctor."
Dai shuddered. Everyone
in admin told their own horror stories about the Spin Doctor, a somewhat
shadowy figure within the Organisation.
"Can he
help?"
"She. And if she
can't, then no one can."
The corridor opened
into the central atrium of the building, a huge square space surrounded by a
vast staircase and galleries on each floor. A glass skylight served as the
ceiling, and Dai watched the reflection of the clouds outside in the polished
marble floor.
"Come on, Dai.
Up."
Raymond took the stairs
two at a time, and Dai ran to keep up. They passed others on the way upstairs,
each of whom gave Dai a quizzical look, and Raymond a wide berth. Dai shrugged
at them all.
The staircase led up to
the third floor. Raymond strode away down the corridor, pausing at a doorway
beside a narrow window. He opened the door and disappeared up a steep flight of
wooden steps into the gloom above. Dai bit his lip - he'd give anything not to
go any further.
"Come on, Dai. I
haven't got all day."
Raymond's baritone
floated down the stairs, and Dai forced himself up the steps into the daytime
murk of the attics. The roof banked in a
steep line, forcing Dai to walk bent over as he followed Raymond between the
low rafters. A dull grey light infused everything with a sickly glow. Something
sticky brushed his face, and Dai wiped away a length of what looked like white
silk.
“Greetings, Raymond.
This is quite a surprise.”
A rasping voice floated
from the shadows in the corner of the attic. Dai winced – it sounded like the
syllables were drawn across sandpaper. His eyes widened as a spider scuttled
forward into the cold light – a spider so large it dwarfed Raymond’s tall
frame.
“We need your help,”
said Raymond. He looked up at the spider, his face reflected millions of times
in the spider’s black eyes.
“So I hear. Third in
the polls, are you?” The spider rubbed her front two legs together. Dai took
two quiet steps backwards.
“Yes. I don’t know why,
but the opposition just seem to be more attractive to the public.”
“I know why. It’s your
PR department. Why don’t you just let me handle it?”
“I should have done. I
will do. But will you help us right now?”
“I will. But you know
what I need.”
Raymond turned to Dai
and beckoned him forward. The hair on the back of Dai’s neck stood up and he
shook his head.
“The youngster is an
arachnophobe,” said the spider.
“Dai, don’t be a fool.
We all need to contribute to the cause. Besides, we don’t need much, just a
drop of your blood.”
Raymond grabbed Dai’s
arm and pulled him forward. Dai struggled, but the spider knocked his legs out
from under him. Dai landed on the floor with a thump, and the spider pinned him
down with her front legs. Raymond produced a penknife from his pocket and ran
its blade across Dai’s thumb. Dai yelped.
“Sssh, Dai. The Spin Doctor
needs your blood to transfer into the pen of a writer. The essence of a
werewolf is the surest way to get our kind back into fiction. All it takes is
one successful book, and more will follow – and our position in the hierarchy will
improve,” said Raymond. He squeezed the cut, and caught the dripping blood in a
glass jar.
The spider released Dai
when the jar was full. Raymond put away the penknife and helped Dai to his
feet. Dai stuck his thumb into his mouth to suck the cut, hoping his
preternatural healing would kick in soon. His legs trembled but all things
considered, that wasn’t so bad.
“Very good, thank you.
I will let you know when the transfer has been made,” said the spider.
Raymond nodded and
headed towards the stairs. Dai turned to follow, but Raymond shook his head.
“No, Dai. You must stay
here.”
“Why?”
“The Spin Doctor might
need more blood.”
“You said you’d only
need a drop?”
“You can never predict
how these things will go,” said the spider.
Raymond disappeared
down the staircase. Dai heard the door close downstairs, and the spider
scuttled away into the darkness.
Dai sat down and
pressed his back against the wall. All he could do was hope that his blood was
enough to inspire the next great werewolf story...and buy his freedom.
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